Article by Stacy Peralta, 1999

It was the summer of '77. Probably. I was on a skate-tour on the east coast of the country headed by photo editor Warren Bolster of SkateBoarder Magazine. He put together three skaters for this trek: Gregg Weaver, Wally Inouye and myself. The trip’s purpose was to skate and photograph as many eastern skateparks as possible from Northern Maine to Southern Florida in just under three weeks.

Five days into the trip we stopped off at a skatepark in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. As was typical of most eastern parks, this one was close to being unrideable; a few poorly designed snake runs accentuated by a handful of small to medium size banked bowls - kinks and bad transitions prevailed.

An hour into the session I was interrupted by a skater calling out from across the park. He requested that I come over to see a trick that a local Floridian kid was doing. I skated over. Took a look. Standing alone atop the three foot cement bowl was a small Jewish kid skating in long pants. He looked out of place. No one skated in pants back then. No one. While awaiting his turn I looked down at his board. The first thing I noticed was the placement of his back trucks, the close proximity to the tail of the board, maybe within two and one half inches instead of the usual four. I thought this odd.

It was his turn. He dropped into the bowl and climbed up the other side. When he reached the top of the bowl his board suddenly popped off of the cement lip, lifted off the ground, and in mid-air switched 180 degrees and then landed. He just as quickly dropped back down into the bowl and approached the opposing wall. I was dumbfounded. It happened so fast. I wasn’t sure what I’d just seen and thought for a moment that it was some kind of an illusion. I looked closely to see if his feet were fastened to the board. They weren’t. Whatever he did, I needed to see it again. It went too fast. I urged him to do it again. He didn’t say a word, he just turned around, dropped back in and repeated the move. When he reached the top of the bowl he used his back foot to horse-kick his tail, this act shot the tail of his board almost crashing it into the concrete lip. It seemed the harder he kicked it the higher his board would pop or “Ollie.” I was amazed. I’d never seen anything like that before and he did it so fast and effortlessly.

I had no idea at the time that I was witnessing the birth of a maneuver that would have such a revolutionary effect on skateboarding that it would change the way people ride skateboards.

I learned his name was Alan “Ollie” Gelfand. "Ollie" being his nickname. A local Floridian skater of 13 or 14 years of age. He talked real fast with lots of nervous energy. Like a used car salesman. He told me his friends decided to call his popping maneuver the “Ollie”................

Update 2002

A email from Alan to Stacy 4-22-2002

Alan writes

Over the years people would say "Wow you invented the Ollie" and I would say yea with no great enthusiasm. I never realized how many people were affected by one little move a 80 pound kid from Hollywood Florida did In the under bowl @ SKATEBOARD USA way back in 1977.

Stacy Reply's

Who knew it would ever get this big. The Ollie has basically become the defacto standard move of all moves. It seems that it is the first thing a skater learns before he goes on. Of course, it was the pioneering work of Rodney Mullen and the street riders that took it and adapted it to flat ground that really gave it the evolutionary leap it needed. It was almost invented backwards. You'd think the move would've been invented on flat first then taken to vertical but it was the other way around. Although if I recall you did invent it on banks then took it to vertical. Anyway it certainly is the trick of the last century. I saw a bumper sticker a few months back (in the vein of the "sh#t happens" bumper sticker) that said "Ollie this." I saw that and went, Wow, the term has become a staple of American pop cultural jargon. Amazing.